


Startled Birds

by CJaneway



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Cliche, M/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 00:22:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18767377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJaneway/pseuds/CJaneway
Summary: That smile. That laugh. That frown. That look. Those eyes. That hair. Those lips. That voice. Smoked honey.





	Startled Birds

Jesse woke up early; a good day deserved a proper morning, and he was going to give it all. He leapt out of bed, a spring in his step, and shuffled into the bathroom as sleep still tried to beckon his feet to turn around. He smelled like sleep and sweat, to the point where he noticed it himself, so he decided to shower; good days deserve good first impressions, after all. A good scrubbing with some imported bar-soap and some fancy Japanese hair-care later, and Jesse McCree stepped out a wet, new man. He also took special care in neatening up his hair and beard – evening out the edges and cleaning himself up real nice. He’d picked out the suit last night; he went with his yellow ensemble.

The pinstriped pants hugged behind something fierce, and the solid colored vest really popped with a white shirt under it. He didn’t put on the matching serape – this wasn’t a mission after all - but he still strapped on his gun belt and put on the matching hat. Being without Peacekeeper and something from his Stetson collection always made him feel tetchy. Jesse then reached for his boots, frowned, and saw he needed to polish them a little bit – luckily, he had a box full of shoe polish and rags that matched his boot collection perfectly. Doing a final shine to the white, steel capped boots was important, and he did so without staining his clothes, which was a plus. Jesse cursed when he realized he’d put on his clothes before he’d dealt with the boots but getting undressed again was a hassle. He sank his feet into the comfortable footwear and admired the shiny tips of the shoes – man he looked good. The final touch was some musky aftershave that really brought out the earthiness in Jesse’s own scent – a more human and warmer version of smoky petrichor.

One last check in the mirror and everything was ready.

He went back into the living space – lord the base quarters were small, and they felt like they were getting smaller each year. It probably had a lot to do with the knick-knacks he’d accumulated. Cowboy memorabilia and kanji scrolls, bullet casings and fletching tools. He almost stepped out but stopped himself at the door; he almost forgot the most important thing! On the corner desk was a vase filled with white lilies – they were a part of the entire set-up and forgetting them would have been inexcusable. They were still wrapped, but Jesse had bought them yesterday, so he put them in water to make them look as fresh as possible. His mama would have smacked him dead if he dared give away wilted flowers; once a southern gentleman, always a southern gentleman. That pesky bounty was just a nuisance really, and not a true reflection of character. He held the bouquet out so it wouldn’t drip on his suit, but he didn’t bother with a napkin – it would just get in the way, anyhow.

Jesse stepped out into the corridor, the Gibraltar sun flooding through the windows like perfectly aligned halos lighting his path – he must have slept later than he’d intended. Never mind; it was all going to be fine. He almost danced through the hallway, enjoying the warm rays and how they warmed him to the bone, even though the triple layered assault-proof windows.

“Oh, hi there Jesse, where ‘re you going?” Tracer was zipping in the other direction, her voice was a bit strained, but Jesse couldn’t blame her – she was probably tired. The mission load had been unbearable as of late. Everyone was under pressure. Jesse himself had arrived from Havana the night before and could still feel some aches and pains that came from doing one too many rolls to avoid enemy fire.

“Lena! I’m going to go see Hanzo.” Jesse’s smile lit up his entire face.

“Oh, ok.” Tracer shrugged, the circles under her eyes seemed to deepen “See you for dinner? Reinhardt’s cooking again, s’got something cabbage innit, not sure wot.” She sounded very tired.

“Sure, darlin. Take care o yerself now, you look tired.” Jesse pulled her into a one-armed hug, careful of the bouquet, and kissed her on the top of her head. He let her go and swanned down the hallway but turned around and yelled “And tell Winston to give you a break!” He saluted her and carried on to his destination.

He’d always make time for this – once a week. This was important, it was special, and getting dressed up for your honeybee was always fun. Same time, same place; it was a peaceful clearing right outside base, close enough to be considered Overwatch territory, far enough away to be shielded from the hustle and bustle of running a supranational illegal organization dedicating to justice, peace, and the American way; well, not the American way, Jesse amended himself with a grin, just any way that wasn’t Talon’s way, because Talon sucked big-time and Jesse thought they were kind of dumb and short-sighted.  

Jesse swanned outside into the bright sunlight, the clear blue skies carrying on for miles, making the cowboy happy he’d wore the matching hat – he hated being blinded by the sun, even if it was beautiful in its own way. The gentle sea breeze caressed his face and felt oddly cool against the places he’d neatened up his beard; Lord he’d been scruffy – showing up like that would have been a punishable offense. It was easy to walk out the main gates, the sun, surf and seagulls were the perfect back-drop for a jaunty little walk. Now all he had to do was double back and follow the wall on the outside.

Once he’d reached the south-side of the base there was a small path off to one of the larger, green covered cliffs, where mother nature had seen fit to allow a thick, lush carpet of green grass grow, and a few trees, scraggly and wind-borne, to poke their heads towards the sky, in their own tangled fashion. It was almost like a park – Jesse would have liked to believe that the original construction of the base allowed for this little green lung to exist, but he knew that war paused for no air, and that they probably hadn’t figured out what to use the space for before Overwatch officially disbanded.

Eventually he reached the small clearing – buried under all this dirt grass and peaceful green was something called the Levant Battery – a old historical landmark. There were many secrets buried on Gibraltar – some of them didn’t even belong here.

_Ah. There’s the spot._

“Hey there, honeybee! Look, I got all gussied up for ya!” Jesse did a twirl, ever so careful with his bouquet, to show off the effort he’d put into making himself look presentable. A warm breeze swooped in from the south and rustled the trees, creating a nice rush of sound.

“I know you like the yellow on me, even if you keep accusin’ me of looking like an Easter chicken reject, so imma just call you out on yer bullshit, darlin. Plus, ya like those traditional Peeps, so ya might as well like this.” Jesse gently put the flowers down, almost like a peace-offering.

_That smile._

“Don’t be so quiet now, doll, I couldn’t make it before. I was busy covering Winston’s hairy ass in Havana” Jesse chuckled as he settled down on his knees.

_That laugh._

“Yeah, don’t look at me like that, honeybee – I’d rather have been covering your ass, but it is what it is, right? You can’t pick and choose your squad mates. Well, you can try, but then Winston gets huffy about it and Angela starts threatening people with needles and prostate exams – we don’t wanna go there.”  Jesse sighed, uncaring that his yellow trousers were being stained green by the grass. He picked up his hat and used a hand to comb his hair back before plopping his headwear down again to keep it in place.

_That frown._

“I told Tracer I’d make it back for dinner t’day. Told ‘er to take care of ‘erself too. She’s working herself too hard – we all are. We need a break.” Jesse took off his hat and his hair fell down into his face again, but he didn’t mind it. He put the hat down by his side and stared up at the sky.

_That look._

“I don’t think I want to go to dinner today,” Jesse admitted, “I ain’t been wanting to go to dinner for months now.” Jesse laughed mirthlessly “Of all the people in the world, you’ve made me give up burgers and fast food – everybody’s cooking is too greasy now – I keep wanting crispy fish and rice for breakfast. How dare you, you actually ruined a fry-up breakfast fer me. Hell, honey, that’s a punishable offense.”

_Those eyes._

“How dare you even.” Jesse growled roughly as he slumped back into the grass, the sun searing into his eyes, without the hat to protect them.

_That hair._

“I brought with me Peacekeeper too, ya know.” Jesse admitted, as if the holster wasn’t visible for miles – the gaudy thing. “I get antsy if she ain’t with me.” Jesse patted his revolver with his metal arm. “Named her cuz you keep the peace through superior firepower – real dumb, ain’t it?” That mirthless laugh was back.

_Those lips._

“I bet you all the peace she bought me came at great cost to someone else.” Jesse wavered as he confessed a truth he’d carried inside for a long time. “I was thinkin, darlin, it’s about time she brought me some real peace – don’t you agree?”

_That voice. Smoked honey._

Jesse reached out and touched the marble in front of him, traced the shining letters.

“She’ll bring me home to you darlin’ – I guess I’ll miss Reinhard’s cooking after all.”

And on a bright sunny day in Gibraltar, the birds were startled out of their trees as the faint sound of thunder traveled from Gibraltar Rock.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel horrible and I'm spreading it around.


End file.
